The Second Coming

The shrill cries of a child
The religious zealots going wild
The ones who knew no pain
And those who had nothing to gain
The boy getting ready for school
The dude with aviators trying to look cool
The unsung and the unheard
The guy who always comes third
The temple priest fooling many
The poor chap stealing honey
The dad who just lost her daughter
The society aunt who just can’t get hotter
The politician who’s unable to win
The old aunt with no blood kin
A new-born girl on her first day
Who will find that even with will, there’s no way
The painter in search of a muse
The government servant who will find yet another excuse
The hippie with the long dreads
The beggar surviving on crumbs of bread
All we know, even those hiding behind the shroud
Will one day get silenced by a mushroom cloud.


Eleventh hour samaritan

August 5, 1945, Rijo Dori Ave.

It was dark and Tsutomu Yamaguchi was walking down the streets after a busy day at work. He wanted to reach home early and gulp down his half empty bottle of Suntory. As he rounded the corner, he saw a shadow darting towards him. Before his cerebral matter prepared  the defense mechanism of his body, he felt cold steel pierce his side. The look on the guy’s face was menacing. Strong jawline, stitches above the eye, swollen lips and a glare which could frighten the living daylights out of anyone. His face was the last thing he saw before he blacked out. Ruptured kidney was what he was left with.

August 6, 1945.

Tsutomu was moved out of Hiroshima to Akitsu for the special surgery. He promised himself to never forget that face.

August 7, 1945.

Newspaper headlines across the world were as follows:

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Tsutomu was glad for the ruptured kidney because of which he moved out of the now-mushroom-clouded Hirsohima. He promised himself to never forget that face.